


If Storms End Will Have Me

by oakforestlove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, gendrya love confession, sibling bonding is cute too, smut will happen, this needed to be written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-05-02 11:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakforestlove/pseuds/oakforestlove
Summary: Arya tells Sansa and Jon she’s leaving for Storms End.Basically I write my head canon post 8x06. So here’s yet another fix- it fic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time posting on ao3- hope you enjoy!

One full moon has passed since the death of Daenerys Targaryen. Since the day she broke the wheel along with all the souls of the survivors. The dust settled as quickly as rebuilding began. A council formed and Bran was chosen to lead Westeros as King. Jon by his side as his Master of War and Sansa crowned the Queen in the North. The realm was finally at peace. Her family was safe, each tainted by the journey it took them all to get there, but stronger for it in the end. So, why did Arya still feel broken?

It was a foreign feeling to her, one she hasn’t allowed herself to truly feel in a long time. Heartbreak. She held no love for this city. It would always be the place her father was taken from her, brutally, under Joffrey’s orders. Her jaw clenched as she thought back on the painful memory she often kept locked away. But even with all the anger and pain she felt, she also felt anguish, even guilt. Guilty she didn’t do more, that she was so focused on her stupid plot for revenge that she lost sight of what truly matters, what Beric and The Hound told her to fight for, life.

She pushed through the men working along the streets. Those who were cleaning up what they could after such a wake of destruction. She’d come to help, but now standing here, she was frozen, only thinking of the lifeless bodies that once littered the streets.

_Arya quickly left the council meeting that decided her siblings’ fates in regards to the new realm and found herself wandering the streets of the lost._

_There were piles everywhere, bodies covered in ash or encased in hardened pumice. It wasn’t until then that Arya had truly taken in what was before her and it all came crashing down at once. She fell to her knees, a feeling of helplessness mushrooming her soul. She should’ve done more, could’ve done more. She was supposed to be a warrior, something she prided herself on. What good was it to be called the ‘Savior of the Night’ and the ‘Bringer of Dawn’ when she couldn’t even save one person? She couldn’t help the mother who offered her hand to her when she was stuck beneath the tramples of the afraid. She couldn’t help her child, who in the end was just a young girl who couldn’t bring herself to leave her mother._

_Arya’s vision blurred from the tears that welled in her eyes. All she could see were more piles of bodies, and more, and more, stretching all the way down to the Red Keep. The faces of women and children, innocent lives all lost and suddenly they became the faces of those she’s lost. Seven hells, she couldn’t even save them. Her father, her mother, Robb, Rickon, Theon, Syrio, even Sandor for gods sake. She clutched her head, trying to shake away the piercing thoughts. She didn’t want to see their faces, she couldn’t, not now._

_It was all too much, “please, no. Get out of my head. Not them, please. No, no, no.” Each pain of their loss struck harder than the one before, breaking away at the few pieces of her she had left, the ones she was trying so desperately to hold onto. She whaled out a cry and felt herself fall fully to the ashy ground beneath her._

_“Arya-“ a frantic voice yelled from afar, running towards her. She felt the familiar swollen arms wrap around her._

_“They’re all gone. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save anyone.” Arya cried, grasping onto the boy, like he was the only lifeline to save her from a dead heart._

_Gendry pushed back the hair that had fallen onto her face, his grip on her tightening. He had never seen Arya like this. She was never one to show her emotions, not anymore. She didn’t allow herself to, not after everything that’s happened, which is why he was overcome with such fear when he saw her fall to the ground, practically screaming. He asked Sansa where she had gone after the council meeting and shortly after found her here. Now she was in his arms and how he wished it was for another reason then her falling apart. He could take a lot of things in his shit bastard life, but not this. He couldn’t take seeing Arya like this. Seven hells, he would do anything, take whatever piss he had too from any cocksucker, so she didn’t have to feel like this. But, that wasn’t possible, not now. She was here. The small body of a wolf, seemingly shaken like a newborn fawn, against his bull like stature. So, he did the only thing he could do. He held her. Gods, he held her so tight because nothing he said could change what happened, nothing he said could help the way she feels. So, he held her, like his life depended on it._

_“They’re really gone.” She weeped. Her stormy grey eyes stared up at his, tears filling them to the brim._

_“I know.” He reached his thumb to her cheek to lightly wipe away the fallen tears and at his touch Arya felt like she could finally breathe again. She leaned into his hand and found the same comfort she had in the forge all those nights ago, before the battle for the dawn. The comfort she had unknowingly been longing for._

The pain subsided and fell away that day when he held her. When he cradled her in his arms and all she felt was his warmth. And here she stood again, shaken, her breathing growing more ragged, as she thought of the burning bodies. The pain from those she lost started to swallow her whole again, only this time she didn’t have him. She didn’t have his strong arms to cradle her until all she felt was warmth. She didn’t have the sound of his voice talking her down from that slippery edge. She let him go, back to Storms end, and how stupid she realizes that was of her. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. She always called him that, but it was her all along. She was stupid to think that she was doing him a favor. He loved her and she sent him away. And now the painful truth stared her in the face. She couldn’t avoid it anymore. She needed him, she missed him, she was in love with him, and it might be too late.

“And where has your mind run off to?” Sansa stood beside her sister, watching over the North men work to help rebuild King’s Landing. It was an affair she had taken up in recent days to show support as their new Queen. After she agreed to help clean up the city, a peaceful alliance with the six kingdoms would be ratified in its place for when her and her men finally did choose to leave.

She did say Sansa was the smartest person she knew, “it’s nothing,” she shrugged, giving her best attempt to sound detached from her thoughts.

“Nothing? You expect me to believe that?” Sansa’s long auburn hair flipped to the side like it did whenever she whipped around too quickly. Arya could feel her glaring with her brows raised, unimpressed. Sansa sighed, “you know, Arya, I was hoping you would have gained some trust in confiding in me by now.”

She rolled her eyes at the melodrama behind her sister’s voice, surely trying to manipulate her through pity, “Fine.” She gave in anyway, telling her all of it, from the beginning. And when she began, she couldn’t stop. Words spewed out of her that she had held in for so long, like the flood gate of her deepest thoughts came crumbling down.

She told her of everything that happened since the day they watched their father die and she fled Kings Landing, only to find a certain bull in her path. She started with how they met, how they were captured together, and how he never stopped protecting her. She told her of their time with the Brotherhood, how he knew from the beginning she was a girl when no one else did, how she trusted him with who she really was and he never told a single soul. She told her how he was the first and only person she ever had real feelings for. Feelings that quickly grew into a storm of love and how heartbroken she was when he wouldn’t leave with her. She told her how scared she was when the red witch took him away from her, and how relieved she felt to see him riding in on that white horse to Winterfell. She told her of the time they spent together when she thought it would be their last night alive-

“You did what?!” Sansa shrieked, before slipping a hand to cover her mouth as surrounding workers gave her questioning looks.

“Not important right now.” Arya brushed off, before continuing to tell her how things came to be.

She told her about the feeling of love she felt surge through her body after being with him. The humanity that she thought she lost, all those years ago, returning to her and how bottled with fear she was to lose him again in the battle for the dawn. And how she thanked all the bloody gods when she saw him again and knew he survived. She told her how much it pained her to say no to him when he proposed to her that night. She thought she was too broken to be with him, how she would only burden him in life. She told her how she let him go because she couldn’t bare saying yes only to leave on a suicide mission to kill Cersei the next day.

She told her how The Hound told her to live and the only thing she could think of was that if she could just get back to Gendry she would tell him how wrong she was for leaving him in the first place. How she ran through the burning city and saw his face everywhere she turned, how a white horse carried her to safety that day and she couldn’t help but think of him as he arrived in Winterfell all over again. She told her of the time she broke down days after the burning of the the city and how he was there. Every step of the way, he was always there. Always protecting her, always loving her, always saving her, just like she was saving him.

“You’re in love with him.” Sansa gaped with awe- strucked eyes.

Arya couldn’t help the short intake of breath she drew at hearing the words aloud. For years, she fought off any feelings that made her less than the trained assassin she set out to be. It made her cold, but strong. No one could touch her because she was never vulnerable. But, now hearing her sister, her dear sister that reminded her so much of their fierce mother say it made it feel all the more real.

Arya found a smile creeping on her lips, “You could say that.” It was all she could manage to say to contain whatever pride she had left after the sappy confessions she just went on about.

“So what are you still doing here?” Sansa crossed her arms, waiting for the excuses that were sure to come if she knew her little sister as well as she thought she did.

“Sansa...” Arya faltered, as her sister held her stare pointedly, “I told him no, sent him away, not once but _twice_.”

“Arya, I wasn’t completely blind to the rouse you two had going on. I knew there was something there, I just didn’t know how serious it all was. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, longing looks and _googling_ eyes.” She exaggerated with a twinkle in her fingers, “he even asked me where you had gone off to after that council meeting almost a full moon ago. I could see how much he cared for you and if I would’ve known you were upset, I would’ve gone to look for you too. Although, now I’m glad I didn’t.” She smirked triumphantly.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” Arya grimaced.

“You’re my little sister. The one who hated the idea of dresses, and love, _and_ ever being a lady or wife. Of course I’m enjoying this.” She squealed, something she hasn’t done in ages, a side of her that only ever seems to come out now around Arya or Jon.

It made her smile to see Sansa like this again. The child-like light only so frequently returned to her eyes after all the darkness they endured, similar to Arya, and right now she saw it. The side of Sansa she found so deeply annoying as a child that she’s come to love. It even made a small laugh escape her, which in turn made Sansa smile even brighter, before pulling her into a hug. Arya sighed, leaning into her sisters shoulder, “what if it’s too late?”

Sansa pulled back from the hug enough to look down to the stone cold face her little sister always held, but found something entirely different. She saw a look of someone distraught with worry and fear. For the first time since they’ve reunited, she saw true emotion on Arya’s face and it nearly broke her heart. She released her arms from around her and grabbed both her hands, holding them in her own, “He loves you. It’s never too late when it comes to love.” She said with conviction, wanting to give her sister as much relief as she could, to make her see that even after all this, she can still have a happy ending.

Arya felt her eyes go blurry with tears and she quickly laughed, and wiped them away, “Thank you, Sansa.” She hugged her again briefly, “I have to go find Jon.”

“I’m coming with you!” Sansa followed as Arya shot her a questioning look, “What? You think I’m going to miss his face when he hears that his favorite little sister is chasing after the boy she loves? A, now, Lord of _all_ people.”

Arya narrowed her eyes, _she was enjoying this too much_ , “Alright then, let’s go.”

The sisters made their way through the grounds of Kings Landing and Arya was able to say her goodbyes to everyone, including Bran, who was already expecting the goodbye and had nothing to say other than a cryptic ‘ _you will all find yourselves where you need be’_.

The only person left to tell was Jon, and maybe she was saving this goodbye for last for a reason. They found him talking with North Men about returning home. He was going to try to frequent between there and Kings Landing for the time being. As Arya approached him, she felt herself grow more nervous. She loved all her siblings, but he was always her favorite. He understood her, like her father understood her, which made telling him the hardest of all. Sansa stepped to the side as Arya approached him, but stayed close enough to watch over the two.

Jon had grown to expect Arya appearing from the shadows out of no where, so he was not surprised when he suddenly found her next to him.

“It seems it’s all over, finally.”

“Aye.” He turned to face her then, “So, are you going back North with Sansa or staying here? I won’t be heading home for a few moons to check in at least, may even stay for a while, if you wished to come with me then instead.” He shrugged, giving her one of his half smiles.

Arya couldn’t help but smile back. He was her favorite after all, “I won’t be going back North for a little while at least, that is if my company is wanted in Storms End.”

She awaited cautiously for his reaction, only to find him dumbfounded. She swore she could hear Sansa’s giggles at his expression in the distance, “Jon?”

His eyes flicked to hers, now drawing some life back into them as he snapped out of whatever life questioning trance he was in, “Storms End?” was all he managed.

“Yes.”

“Why?” His brows furrowed.

Jon was oblivious to such things when it comes to love, especially when it came to Arya. So, Sansa decided this was her time to intervene, “She’s in love with Gendry!” She jumped in.

Jon’s eyes practically bulged out of his head and Arya swore she would really kill Sansa this time. She narrowed her eyes at her smirking sister who started towards them.

“Is that true?” Jon looked bewildered at first, and then she found the same awe-strucked expression behind his eyes that Sansa had when she told her.

Arya could manage nothing apart from a quick nod and he jumped towards her, wrapping her up in his arms like he did when she was nothing but a scruffy little child and spun her around, laughing joyously. She couldn’t help the playful laugh that escaped her from the sudden, swift turn. He set her down and the two smiled brightly at each other. He gave her the look she always loved. The one she saw only from him and their father. A look filled with love and pride.

And again, she must’ve been crying, _gods she’s been crying a lot_ , because she felt his hand rub away the stray tear that fell down her cheek. She looked to her feet, growing sheepish of the circumstance, “You don’t think any less of me, do you?”

Jon found himself puzzled at her inquiry before realizing what she truly meant by it. He held his little sister on each of her shoulders, “Love does not make you weak, Arya.”

She met his eyes then and she knew what he spoke was true and he meant it. He didn’t see her as a weak girl softened by love. He didn’t look at her any less than he did before. In fact, he was looking at her like she was even stronger for it. It reminded her of the look on their father’s face when she told him she wanted to be a lord and run her own kingdom, like she was the strongest person in the world to say that. She reached out and hugged Jon tightly, knowing she needed every ounce of strength from both him and Sansa to actually go through with this.

He held her embrace, before gently setting her back down and Arya felt herself grow weary again. The rush of questions swarming her mind and the twist her stomach made when she thought of seeing the stupid bull again. Would he be happy to see her? Did he even mean what he said when he told her that none of it would be worth it without her? Or was it just something he said on a heightened whim of emotion?

It seemed Sansa sensed her beginning to overthink it all again because she was at her side giving her hand a little squeeze of reassurance, “Go, Arya,” she felt her heart race at her sister’s words of encouragement, “before Jon carries you out of here and throws you on the ship!” She gave her a gentle push and they laughed as Arya jogged away, hoping to catch the next ship to the Stormlands before they left.

Jon peered over to Sansa then, “you knew about all of this?”

Sansa smirked, “I had an inkling,” always wanting the upper hand between the two.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya arrives in Storms End. 
> 
> ...and finds out Gendry apparently has god like powers like Thor? 
> 
> You’ll get the reference once you read it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it’s taken me so long to update. I ended up scratching what I had already written in a rage of disgust towards my writing. Then, I kept rewriting the smut, trying to figure out how far I wanted to take it. 
> 
> Oh yeah... did I mention there’s smut?

The storms surrounded the coast of the Stormlands, more violent than she could of imagined. The current there was strong and the waves were too choppy for any ship to take on. Arya was left with no choice but to dock a port away from Shipbreaker Bay.

Simply, she’d rather have the ship left in one piece for an easy escape if Gendry wound up telling her to fuck off. Her stomach churned at the thought; of him looking at her with blatant indifference, his eyes dormant where there once been love.

Even if she wanted to leave, to forget everything about him, every stupid fantasy that somehow wrinkled it’s way into her mind and just- go home, she couldn’t. Not when she was here and he was only so far away from where she stood in her soppy, mud- ridden boots.

Gravity, itself, couldn’t keep her away from him now.

Arya flinched at the crack of thunder, sending a shiver up her spine at the familiarity of the sound. Th echoing rumble brewed in the grey sky above just as the buildings crumbled under the cloud of fiery smoke. Her hand fainted along the scars that centered her neck when she cleared her throat, as if she was still trying to break apart the soot that lathered itself along her airway that heinous day, a compulsion triggered that she could not control. Her thoughts began to rumble as much as the sky above her when she felt the droplets of water trickle down and fall upon her skin, reminding her of where she was. She was not in danger here. This was not King’s Landing. This could be _home_.

Arya jumped onto the dock, thankful to have her feet back on sturdy ground and started for Storms End. She should be able to make it by nightfall if the weather was kind.

“Oi!” A member of the crew she travelled with called after her, “some of the lads are taking rest before traveling back. The skies are not bearable without a nights rest, my lady.”

Arya rolled her eyes at the use of the title, “I’ve got somewhere to be!” She hastily yelled, not bothering to turn around.

 _Milady_. A faint smile fell upon her lips as she trudged through the rain, thinking of the lord and how sweet the title she so utterly hated could sound when it came from him. 

***

The journey left Arya a withering mess, with little to no sleep or food. She longed for a good meal, maybe even a featherbed. All wants that quickly fell away when she saw the Baratheon banners. She snorted at the stag sigils branded among them. _Should be a bull now._

Arya stared upon them in wonder. The stubborn boy who referred to himself as nothing but a bastard was now Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storms End. Her heart swelled, not because he was lord, no, but because for so long he thought so lowly of himself. Like, he didn’t matter and he deserved shit because that was all he’d ever known his whole life, but now he has all of this. A kingdom to rule strong and fair, with plenty of men, women, and children by his side. He finally had the support she knew he always wanted.

Her eyes flicked down to her feet as she recalled the time she begged him to go with her, to be her family and she would be his. Arya felt all the same doubts bottle up inside her once more. He turned her down then and she swore a little part of the soul she’s been fighting so hard to get back died that day. And when he finally came back to her, she did the same to him.

Now, here she was. Arya Stark, the girl who rejected him _multiple_ times, showing up unannounced and without invitation.

 _Gods, what was she thinking_. What could she even offer him? She’s no lady. She’s not prim and proper, she doesn’t wear dresses or curtsy. She’s not the ideal woman a lord would want as a wife and gods know she’s not easy to deal with. She could only hope he would want her anyway. Maybe he truly meant what he said to her, before she ruined everything and left him with nothing but her own stupid rejection.

Arya kicked the rocks beneath her feet, shaking away the crippling thoughts.

The torchlights glowed, brightening the closer she drew to the front gates. Her hand involuntarily shifted to Needle when she saw the guardsmen in position, a mindless reflex that ensured her safety, ready to defend herself if need be.

“And what brings you here, girl?” The taller guard called out.

Arya ran a quick scan over the two men, sizing them against her small stature until she was certain they posed no threat. Satisfied, her hand lifted off Needle and clasped the other behind her back, “My name is Arya Stark of Winterfell and I’m here to see your lord.”

The more stout of the two chuckled, intervening then, “and we’re just supposed to believe you’re Arya Stark? The one who legends call the bringer of dawn? I don’t think so, little girl.”

Arya gave a sturdy nod as her lips pursed. She didn’t take well to condescension. She took a warning step forward, closing in on his proximity, “This could go one of two ways, either you let me in freely or I go in forcefully. Your choice...” Her brow arched, awaiting the guard’s reply.

The fat man gulped as small beads of sweat dripped from his nose, feeling rather intimidated under the stare of such a small girl.

Arya shifted her hand back to Needle, daring them to challenge her. Instantly, both men swiftly stepped aside, stumbling over their own feet as she leisurely strolled past them.

She trudged along the steep hill that was built upon coarse, grey stone. Taking in just how different everything was compared to The North. The air wasn’t cool and crisp, but humid and moist, leaving a dewiness on her skin that glistened under the light of every torch she passed.

She didn’t hate it, not like she thought she would. It may even be a little refreshing to be somewhere so different. It would never be The North, her childhood home, that’s true, but a change in weather is something she would get use to if it meant being with him.

That is if she‘s even wanted here in the first place. If he wants her to stay.

Lightning struck and Arya watched the sky brighten in a great white light. The storm was raging by the time she reached the doors of the towering castle, leaving her drenched from head to toe. It wasn’t exactly how she planned to see Gendry again, but in reality what did she care? He’s seen her look worse.

She thought back on their time with The Brotherhood. The nights they bunked together to keep warm when she was just a scruffy, little girl with nothing more than a twig- like figure and sharp tongue.

One of the two having changed, the latter not being one of them-

“M’ lady! Are you alright?” A young girl, who looked only three and ten, ran to her as she entered the grand bolted door.

Arya tried to contain the way she cringed at the title, “It’s Arya,” she corrected, “would you know where I could find Lord Baratheon?”

“He’s in the Round Hall, m’ lady- I mean, Arya.” The girl softly smiled at the informality.

Arya nodded, faintly smiling herself, “Thank you- what was your name?”

“Elia,” she curtsied before leading Arya to the Round Hall, “pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.” Arya smiled at the young beaming girl, who she assumed worked in the castle’s kitchen judging by the leftover flower covering her tattered dress.

“May I ask where you’ve journeyed from?” Elia asked shyly, “I only ask because of the stories.”

“What stories?”

The two walked along the long hallway as Arya eyed the walls lined in decorative steel, recognizing their craftsmanship at first glance.

“There were whispers of stories through the small folk when we heard of our new lord.” Arya cocked a brow urging Elia to continue, “a story of a strong man, who was over six feet in length and arms that stretched one foot in width. He could wield a hammer that shook the ground with one slam and pull lightning from the sky, sending any man flying with one hit!”

Arya’s smile brightened at the tale. Gendry deserved all the praise they gave to him, “well-“

“That’s not all.” Elia smiled politely in apology for her interruption, “we also heard a _different_ story. One of the same man who, with all his strength and power, was never the same after the battle for the dawn. And no one knows if it’s because of the sheer terror he felt looking into the eyes of death or the northern girl who broke his heart. They say both haunt his dreams every night.”

Arya felt a lump well in her throat, “northern girl?”

“Yes. It’s so awfully sad, m- Arya. I don’t have all the details clear but the girl was a warrior, said to be like Nymeria of the Rhoyne!” Elia gazed while telling the tale, “well, anyway, she played a big part in the battle, but left soon after, leaving our lord quite sullen, hoping that she would truly return to him one day, not only in his dreams.”

“Huh.” Arya’s mind went racing somewhere around _northern girl_.

The girl nodded precisely, “that’s the story anyway... which is why I ask, if I may, where you’ve traveled from?”

“The North.” She breathed.

Elia’s face lit up before opening the door to the Round Hall, “there he is,” pointing ahead.

Arya stilled, suddenly aware of the reason she was in this unfamiliar castle, drenched from head to toe, looking surely pathetic, in the first place.

She turned to face the men in council and saw him. Tall and broad shouldered with furrowed brows, watching the way his mouth curled together as he listened to Davos lecture him, no doubt about the certain duties a lord must uphold. Something he only did when he was really concentrated... _gods, she hated she even knew that_.

She’s acting more and more like the Sansa she remembered from when they children. The one who would tell her stories of princesses being saved by princes and knights, how they fell madly in love, and all she did was scowl at the idea that the princesses needed to be saved in the first place.

She hated every second of it, the idea of love.

The memory was almost enough to make her up and leave then, but when she tried, she couldn’t seem to move. No matter how hard she tried, her feet were stoned to the ground.

Her fate was sealed when she stepped into this room and saw him again. Hells, it was sealed when she first met him.

She wouldn’t be able to leave, not when seeing him made every bad feeling within her crumble away.

She stepped into the hall, making her presence known, “Gendry-“

Arya watched as Gendry’s body stilled. A few moments passed before he slowly turned to her.

“Arya?” His voice was nothing but a whisper, his head shook in disbelief.

Her eyes welled at the sound of her name falling from his lips once more. The two stood as they were, staring back at the other, lost in a moment that seemed untouched by time.

Davos was the first to clear his throat, breaking the electric gaze between the two, “Well, m’ lord, I think we’ve gone over enough for the day?”

Elia softly giggled beside Arya and she felt the uncontrollable heat rise to her cheeks. She watched as Gendry’s chest heaved in and out, “uh... y-yes, of course. That will be all for today.” He stammered, never breaking the bewildered stare he set upon her.

“You heard him lads! Our Lord is finished for tonight. Council will pick up as is tomorrow.” Davos nodded, before walking over to Arya himself, “Lady Stark,” a faint smile spread across his face.

“Davos.” She nodded, before he excused himself.

The men’s chatter started up again as they filed out of the hall stealing glances at Arya every chance they got, while Elia bid her a good night and curtsied to her lord before leaving them alone, most pleased with herself.

Gendry looked down to his feet and Arya wished the distance between them would dissipate entirely. She could practically see the wheels running off track in his mind. He was confused, which he had every reason to be.

She took a gentle step forward, “That was a very strong dismissal, m’ lord.”

The slight upturn to his lips made her stomach flip as he rolled his eyes, “don’t call me that.”

Arya snorted at his response and went along with the familiar interaction, “as m’ lord commands,” she smirked, before meeting his eyes as they glistened on her.

He laughed and her grin only grew wider. _Gods, did she miss him_.

The two smiled at the other fondly, before he broke himself away, “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“What?” her brows furrowed, “No, everything’s fine.”

Gendry’s shoulders dropped then, letting out a sigh of relief, “Good. I’m glad you’re- y’know, good.”

Arya watched his eyes dart across her face, knowing he was searching her features for answers to questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask. She felt herself go small under his stare and started to fidget with her clammy hands, like a little girl caught in trouble.

Gendry was the only one who could ever make her feel this way. Like she was back to being ‘Arry’, just three and ten, stealing glimpses of the shirtless smith, who’s muscles glistened under the steam of welding steel.

The huff he made broke her out of her thoughts and she gulped. Suddenly the air felt thicker, more tense than before. “Why are you here, Arya?” His clear blue eyes were pleading to hers and she couldn’t help the way it made her stomach twist.

“I told Sansa and Jon I wouldn’t be going back home for a while.” She muttered and she swore she saw a flicker of hope in his eye before it quickly muddled away.

This is what she was afraid of, that even with her here in Storms End, it was too late. He wasn’t going to open himself up to her again, not for a third time. He wouldn’t allow himself to, he closed her off from his heart forever. _Gods, she was so stupid_.

Why did she ever let him go in the first place? What kind of a blind idiot rejects the person they’re in love with?

“Arya, I-“ Gendry began only to be cut off by her pacing and muffled grunts.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” She mumbled, her fists clenched by her sides.

You’ve ruined it for yourself and lost him too. Arya ran her fingers firmly through her hair. She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t lose him too. She knew she would always have Sansa, and Jon, and Bran, but she needed him.

“Arya-”

She needed him in a way she never needed anyone before and it scared the living daylight out of her. Maybe, all along, that’s what it was. Why she kept pushing him away, ever since he found his way to back to her.

Gendry stepped forward and grabbed Arya by the shoulders, halting her pacing to an abrupt stop. Her stormy grey eyes flicked back to his and her breathing went even- “I love you,” she slipped out.

Gendry’s eyes bulged, dropping his hands from her in shock, “you what?” The words fell breathlessly.

Arya found herself smiling then, gazing up to him with wide eyes, “I love you,” she repeated, more certain now than ever and everything that followed came spilling out- “I was a blind idiot for thinking that I was doing you a favor by letting you go. All these years I’ve been calling you the stupid, stubborn bull when it’s been me all along.” Her laugh was shaky as the declarations and confessions spewed out of her, as words she never thought she’d ever think, let alone say to someone, fell from her lips, “I love you. _So much_.” She nodded with teary eyes filled to the brim, trying to assure him that she’s never been more sure of anything in her life.

Arya watched as Gendry’s jaw went slack, her chest heaved raggedly, unsure of what to do next. They stared at the other in silence and she cursed herself for making such a mess of things to begin with. _Stupid_. She shook her head, and turned to walk away when Gendry grabbed her forearm, spinning her back to him, and crashed his lips into hers.

Arya’s knees went weak as Gendry held her face in his palms. There was a fervent passion behind the kiss. Like, they needed to bruise all the love they felt for each other onto the other’s lips.

Gendry suddenly pulled back from the kiss, smiling from ear to ear, squishing her cheeks between in his hands, “Arya, I love you too.”

Arya playfully punched his bicep, “I knew that already, stupid.” She smiled, knowing he still felt the same about her. Her eyes traced every feature upon his beaming face, perhaps she knew along. _Hells, maybe that’s why she made it this far_.

Gendry dramatically leaned his shoulder back from the force of her punch to please her, “Hey, maybe since now you, y’know, love me.” Arya’s eyebrow corked as he continued, “You can stop punching, slapping, and pushing me?”

Arya laughed at his stupid smile, “not a chance,” before kissing him again. Her fingers ran through his dark hair, that grew back eagerly over the past few moons and she felt him grunt against her lips at the contact. He clutched the back of her neck, pulling her closer. There bodies morphed into one while he suckled on her bottom lip, before moving along her jaw.

Arya tilted her head back, a soft breath escaping her, as he trailed kisses down her neck, before taking his lips off her skin and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, “let’s go upstairs.” He quickly suggested and it took everything in her not to roll her eyes.

“Why? We can stay here, the floor looks pretty comfortable to me.” Arya deadpanned.

Gendry rolled his eyes at her bluntness, “Yeah, and believe me I’d love to, but the last thing I want is for one of those shithead lords to bust in here during- well then, I’d have to kill em.” He added lightheartedly.

“I wouldn’t mind.” She shrugged causing him to scoff.

“Don’t I know it.”

Arya smirked at his gruffness before yelping as Gendry scooped her off her feet. He hastily made his way up the steps of the tower to his chambers, carrying her bridal style, “you know I could’ve walk on my own.”

He set her down as they reached the top, staring at her with such love before kissing her again, “I know.”

Arya deepened the kiss as they bursted through the door. Gendry led her to the bed, his hands holding her hips while she tore her tunic off, not wanting to waste anymore time.

He suckled down her neck to her sternum, “I love you,” he whispered along the way. Arya’s eyelids fluttered, sighing with content as the three words feathered lightly over her skin, small goosebumps erupting in their wake.

Her skin was on fire at the feel of him on her, she wanted him now.

Arya quickly fiddled with his belt. The two ripped clothing off one another in the matter of seconds, stealing kisses every chance they got. She pushed him down to the bed, climbing on top of of him with more urgency than the first time.

Straddling him, she slammed her lips back onto his. Arya felt the bulge in his pants press against her center and her breath hitched at the feel of his length. She bit her lip, grinding against him, trying to diminish the small layer of clothing that keeps them apart.

“Fuck, Arya.” Gendry groaned as she rocked against him. He gripped her hips, unable to take any more of her dance without losing control, and flipped them both over.

Arya whined at the loss of contact, but finds it again when his hand trails up her torso. He took her in to his full, his lips parting slightly, before his mouth was on her again. Pressing sloppy kisses from her naval to the dip between her breasts.

“Gendry,“ Arya breathed his name like she was one with the clouds, floating freely in the sky, and he smiled against her skin, before taking a nipple into his mouth. Arya moaned as his tongue flicked over the bud of her breast, suckling and grazing his teeth along it’s point before switching his attention to the other. She was panting underneath him when he slid his hand down her stomach to trail over the soaked folds between her legs, “fuck,” she squirmed, surprised by the sudden contact, but all the more grateful for it.

Gendry chuckled through their kiss and her fingers seeped into his hair as he made his way down her body, pressing wet kisses against her shoulder, the inner corner of her arm, slowly making his way over the scars that embedded her sides, taking his time admiring her beauty, and pouring every ounce of love he feels for her onto her skin.

Venturing down her stomach, she felt Gendry’s lips brush along the line of her pelvis, lowering himself with every kiss. A shiver ran up her spine when he pressed his lips against her inner thigh, her senses exploding as he suckled on the sensitive skin.

Arya tried to pull his mouth to where she yearned to feel him and he smiled, not giving an inch, pressing another kiss on the opposite thigh. She rolled her eyes at his stubbornness and lightly kicked his side.

Gendry released his lips from her skin and looked up to meet her pointed stare with his own, “yes?”

“Stop teasing.” She gruffed.

He lazily smirked at her demands, “as m’ lady commands.”

Arya was ready to retaliate when his tongue swiped up her slick folds, immediately taking any words she had away. She gasped as he worked his way around her center. Feeling her wetness, Gendry pumped his finger inside her and Arya all but lost it. She let out a wild moan, a writhing mess beneath him now, but she needed more. She needed to feel him inside her. She pulled him up to meet her kiss, their tongues swirling for dominance, as her fingers trailed down his torso to the hem of his britches.

Gendry leaned back to fully take them off and Arya stared above at him, biting her lip. She couldn’t believe that he loved her. The boy who she’d always had a crush on, that was just out of reach, loved her. Her heart warmed at the thought of everything they’d been through to get here. To this moment. Gendry looked down to her then and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks under the glistening eyes he saved only for her.

Arya watched as he slowly leaned down to kiss her sweetly, surging love through every atom of her body.

“Say it again,” he whispered. Her eyes flicked open to see Gendry staring back at her. Her body stilled as the tip of his thumb traced along her jaw, studying every detail of her face, before locking eyes with her again.

Arya found herself falling deep in the ocean eyes she would never grow tired of. Her hand gently clutched his cheek and she kissed him softly once more, “ _I love you_ ,” putting every ounce of conviction she had behind the words.

Gendry’s lips quickly found hers again. Arya sighed into the kiss, pulling him in, wanting his body as close to hers as possible.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his length rest against her thigh, the pool of heat returning between her. She raised her hips, begging to close the last of the gap between them and he groaned as his cock rocked against her soaking center. She felt the tip of the head slip between her wet folds and a throbbing ache swelled within her, “I need you,” she breathed as he kissed just below her ear.

Gendry moaned into her neck at her pleads and Arya turned her head, swallowing the noise whole with her kiss. He yearned for her just as she did for him. Her hands slid up to his shoulders and lingered down his arms while he shifted his weight, before curling his hands around her own. Intertwining their fingers, he pinned both arms on either side of her head. He kissed her dizzily and her legs spread wide in want when he pushed inside her.

Arya’s back arched, her eyes rolling back, as she let her ragged gasps run wild. Her teeth grazed Gendry’s shoulder as his cock glided in and out of her seeping wet cunt, finding new angles that made her moan and cry out his name.

Gendry pushed the hair that stuck to her dampened skin off her face. She kissed him sloppily, biting down on his lip, unable to control the hunger she felt for him. He sighed against her mouth, while plummeting in and out of her, changing his pace and angle every so often to lengthen their time together.

Arya was panting roughly, quickly reaching her climax. Gendry could tell she was close, so he slipped his hand down between her slit. Her back arched as he found the bundle of nerves, rubbing the swollen bud with his thumb as he continued to slam into her.

Arya dug her nails into his back, feeling light headed at the sudden pleasurable sensation that erupted through her body. Her toes curled under, crying out his name, and he finally let go. They both shuddered as they tipped over the edge. His seed spewing into her, as he slowly slid in and out, allowing them to ride out the waves of their own ecstasy.

Gendry’s head rested in the crook of Arya’s neck as she pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He smiled, pressing a quick kiss to her neck before he pushed off her, flipping onto his back.

Arya sucked in a sharp breath at the lost feel of him when he pulled out of her, the cool air meeting both their heated skin as they lye bare beside one another.

Gendry turned his head to admire her then, watching her chest rise and fall heavily with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, “you’re so beautiful” he breathed.

Arya couldn’t help the way the corners of her mouth upturned under his gaze. She was overwhelmed with such a cosmic wave of love. It surged through her whenever she looked at him. She lazily smiled before swiftly rolling on top of him, “shut up, stupid,” kissing the bull- headed boy senseless once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know your thoughts! I love to hear your feedback, no matter if it’s praise or something you didn’t like. 
> 
> muah xx

**Author's Note:**

> this may be a few chapters or turn into something bigger, i’m not entirely positive on what it will be yet! It depends on if people like it and if i feel there’s more story to be written.


End file.
